But then spring came. Everywhere we went people were walking their pets, and he remembered how much fun our old pup was, back when he was healthy. He softened, and began watching rescue sites and animal shelters' "I'm adoptable!" pages. Until, on Friday, he said, "I think I found the right dog for us."
He was right. The dog was a perfect fit for our family. But when we went back to introduce the kids and fill out paperwork, something unexpected happened.
Our little boys grieved.
They'd said good-bye to our old dog before he died, they'd sat and cried with us after he was gone. Still, the idea of a new pet brought a fresh wave of sadness I did not see coming. One son insisted we name the new dog after our old one. The other grew edgy and uncertain, springing quick tears all weekend. Were they not ready? Or was their sadness inevitable?